


so pull me down now, if you want to

by thepsychicclam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Facials, Felching, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Stiles, Rimming, Scent Marking, Sex Toys, Teabagging, Writing on Skin, because i can't write these two without some feels, bossy!Stiles, but there are some feels, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He can’t touch Stiles; Stiles can only touch him. It’s all part of their game. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	so pull me down now, if you want to

**Author's Note:**

> written for [unashamed-fangirl](http://unashamed-fangirl.tumblr.com), who requested me write a fic using a kink bingo card for her birthday. which is why i just wrote a whole bunch of stuff that makes me blush.

Stiles smirks as he tightens the restraint around Derek’s wrist. Derek watches him from where he’s propped up against the headboard, his torso angled into a half-seated position, pillows underneath his shoulders to protect him from the hard surface of the bed. Stiles’ body is stretched out over him, hovering so close to Derek’s skin that Derek can almost feel sparks of electricity between them. Stiles rubs the cuff around Derek’s wrist with his thumb. The soft leather presses into Derek’s skin, tight and secure, and Derek tests it out, but the ropes don’t budge. Even with a bit of werewolf strength, the mountain ash-laced restraints stay in place. Stiles’ smile is smug and downright sexy.

Stiles’ nipple is right over his face, and Derek lifts his head to lick it, but Stiles moves away just in time. He makes a tutting sound, and waves his finger back and forth.

“I didn’t tell you to move,” Stiles says as he crawls off the bed. “Bad Derek.” Stiles is already naked, and Derek stares in appreciation at the smooth, pale skin. Stiles remains still as Derek’s eyes trace the moles across his skin, the smattering of hair on Stiles’ chest, the line of dark hair leading down into the dark, coarse curls above his cock. Derek wants to lick Stiles’ cock, which hangs soft between his legs, wants to lick and taste it until it’s hard and heavy on his tongue. He wants to run his fingers through the soft, dark hair on his thighs. 

Derek struggles against the restraints, momentarily forgetting they are there as he makes a move towards Stiles. He looks over at them in surprise before he remembers. 

He can’t touch Stiles; Stiles can only touch him. It’s all part of their game. 

Stiles glances at Derek’s groin, his cock half-hard already. “Eager tonight, aren’t we?” Stiles bends down and grabs a few things out of the open box on the floor. “Then I guess, since I’m awesome and all, we’ll get started.”

“Bout damn time,” Derek mutters. His entire body is thrumming with anticipation and excitement. He can already tell it’s going to be difficult to contain himself, to draw this out so they can enjoy this. As he settles between Derek’s open thighs, Stiles slaps the side of Derek’s leg hard enough that it stings.

“Mouthy,” Stiles says, kneeling between Derek’s spread legs as he pops the top on a bottle of lube. He squeezes a generous amount into his hands before he reaches between Derek’s legs. Stiles slides his finger along the sensitive skin behind Derek’s balls, just a light teasing touch that makes Derek sigh, before dragging his finger against the crease of his cheeks. Then, Stiles slides his finger between the cheeks and circles a wet finger around his asshole. Derek’s eyes drift shut at the soft, methodic presses, both pleasant and comforting. Gently, Stiles presses against the ring of muscle, the tip of his finger sliding inside. 

Derek tries to arch his hips off the bed, but the restraints limit his mobility, so he remains still as Stiles slides his finger in and out, his other hand rubbing against Derek’s thigh. It feels so good, the smooth glide of Stiles’ finger, and the light touches on his thigh make his skin tingle and shoot straight to his balls. Stiles pushes his finger all the way in, past the second knuckle as far as it can go, and Derek clenches around the digit, trying to hold it in as Stiles slowly pulls it out. Stiles takes his time, clearly enjoying watching the way his finger disappears into Derek’s asshole if his face is any indication. Stiles looks enraptured, his face and neck flushed as he watches, open-mouthed and shallow breathed. 

Too soon, Stiles removes his finger, and Derek expects him to start again, this time with two or three, but it never happens. Stiles picks up something beside him, and Derek’s cock twitches as Stiles lubes up the string of anal beads.

“Looks like you’re glad to see these,” Stiles says with a smirk, and Derek’s cock twitches again. He scowls, not wanting to give Stiles the satisfaction this early on when he hasn’t even done anything. There’s no reason for his cock to be responding so soon, but he can already feel himself throbbing as Stiles presses the first bead against his rim, moving it around before popping it inside. 

Derek exhales heavily as the bead sinks into him and Stiles rubs his rim with his fingers, Stiles’ eyes never leaving Derek’s. “You gonna just sit there and stare at me?” Derek asks, his eyebrow raised. He loves this, the teasing, the push and pull; he can feel the arousal coming off Stiles, the slight hint of irritation, and the amusement.

“Greedy,” Stiles responds, popping another bead past the ring of muscle unexpectedly. Derek jerks, clenches around it. “Want more?”

“Yes,” Derek says, and Stiles pushes another in, and then another. The beads are merely teasing, just a hint of a stretch that has Derek tugging against the restraints, his arms wanting to grab Stiles and pull him close, kiss him and lick the sheen of sweat from his neck. The leather is pliant enough so that it doesn’t dig into Derek’s wrists, but the loss of control makes his heart rate kick up, his cock ache at the helplessness of it all. 

“One more,” Stiles says, rubbing his perineum gently, his long, narrow thumb going back and forth, back and forth, until Derek’s cock throbs and wants to be touched. Derek waits for Stiles to ask if he can take it, like usual, but this time he doesn’t. Stiles just shoves the last bead inside Derek, and Derek exhales something that could be termed a grunt, and then Stiles drags his thumb down the sensitive skin to his hole. Stiles rubs his thumb against the muscle, feeling it clench beneath his touch as Derek adjusts to the feeling of the beads inside him. Derek gasps when Stiles hooks a thumb inside him, wiggling it around behind the beads, pushing them farther up his ass. The feeling is overwhelming, the uneven stretch of the beads combined with Stiles’ thumb twisting inside him. When Stiles removes his thumb, Derek feels himself close around emptiness, and he squeezes a few times as his asshole tingles from the lost sensation. Sweat begins to break out across his skin as his breathing quickens.

Stiles lifts himself up and moves forward, ever so carefully so as not to touch Derek’s cock, hard and leaking against his belly. He slings his leg over Derek’s body, settling comfortably onto Derek’s torso. Stiles’ weight, the tantalizing press of his ass and balls against his stomach, just makes Derek want to touch him even more. 

Stiles leans forward, presses his fingers against Derek’s ribs before sliding his hands up over his skin, thumbs brushing over Derek’s pert nipples as he passes. Stiles trails his fingertips lightly against the inside of his elbows, then along the tender undersides of his arms to his pits, soft barely there touches that cause goose bumps to break out over his skin and his nipples to harden. Stiles leans down, his fingers drawing maddeningly light circles on the underside of Derek’s bicep, and hovers just above Derek’s lips, close enough that his lips tingle. Stiles’ mouth is parted, his breath coming out in hot, quick puffs against Derek’s lips. This close, Derek’s senses are saturated with the scent of Stiles. Stiles’ pink tongue peeks out between his lips to wet them, and Derek lunges up to kiss those full lips, but Stiles moves out of the way, denying him. Derek pulls against the restraints in frustration, his lips tingling almost painfully.

Stiles reaches over, picks something up from the nightstand, and then settles back onto Derek’s lap, holding a small knife between his fingers. He drags the sharp tip of the knife across Derek’s skin, and Derek’s breath catches in his throat as the light scratch travels through his veins. 

“Who do you belong to?” Stiles asks, dragging the sharp edge of the blade down the side of Derek’s exposed neck. Derek holds still, his eyes flashing blue at the metal against the vulnerable flesh. Stiles presses the tip into his neck, and Derek feels his heart skip in his chest, his cock twitch as it hardens further. 

“You,” Derek says, voice barely audible in the quiet room, his lips hardly moving as he speaks. Stiles presses the tip harder into the skin, and Derek makes a small whining noise that pleases Stiles. “You,” he says louder. “Stiles. I belong to you.”

“Very good,” Stiles says, pulling the blade away and positioning the tip over the left side of Derek’s chest. Stiles breaks the act for just a moment, long enough to shoot Derek a questioning gaze and mouth _you sure?_ Derek nods, and Stiles gives him a reassuring smile before he readopts his role. “You’re my property. My very own werewolf toy.” The first pierce of skin causes Derek to moan, his cock throbbing painfully between his legs as Stiles carves shallowly into skin. The pain makes Derek involuntarily struggle against the restraints, his canines extending in his mouth of their own accord. The knife slices slowly through skin, the sting making him writhe slightly, limbs straining for release. The ache of each inch of abused flesh goes directly to his thobbing cock, and Derek tenses, clenching around the beads inside, tantalizing him that much more. “There,” Stiles says when he finally pulls the knife away, Derek’s skin stinging and burning, “Now everyone will know you are mine.” 

Stiles admires his work, and Derek glances down at the bright red SS carved rudimentarily into his chest. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, the thin, bleeding lines on his chest, but the sight of Stiles’ initials cut into his skin, no matter how temporary, makes him moan. It should terrify him, cause his hackles to rise, this obvious display of dominance, cause his wolf to claw to the surface, but the wolf and the man both love the idea of being owned, of being _marked_ by Stiles. Derek breathes heavily through his mouth as he watches Stiles drag his thumb across the slits, smearing the blood against Derek’s skin. But more importantly, Stiles gets Derek’s blood on his own skin, and the scent hits him so strongly that his eyes flutter shut and he moans loudly and shifts without meaning to, his entire body tense as he struggles to get free, to claim Stiles, to cover him with even more of his scent.

“Hey,” Stiles says, his fingers rubbing along Derek’s ribs gently – _smearing the blood and scent and them across his body_ – then rubbing his hands along Derek’s arms and wrinkled forehead. He leans over to one of Derek’s hands and massages his wrist comfortingly until Derek unclenches his fist, claws digging into his palm. “Derek, it’s okay.”

Derek opens his eyes, and Stiles is smiling down at him. The initial shock passed, Derek breathes and regains a bit of his composure, forces himself to shift his face back to normal, his eyes still blue and canines still protruding. Stiles sits back again and lifts his wrist to Derek’s mouth. “Open your mouth,” Stiles commands, soft but firm. Derek obeys, and Stiles drags the inside of his wrist against the sharp tip of Derek’s canine, pressing hard enough near the edge to pierce the skin.

Derek almost comes right then.

Stiles glances down at the tiny puncture, then lifts his wrist to Derek’s mouth. Derek licks the skin greedily, the tiny spot of blood a metallic sting against his tongue, and he’s struggling against the bonds again to get to Stiles, to _touch_ and _take_. The taste of Stiles is concentrated on his tongue in a way it’s never been before, strong and everything he’s used to from years of being together, but so much more. Derek swears he can see to the very core of Stiles through this one point in his skin.

Derek starts sucking on Stiles’ wrist, lips wrapped around the narrow bone as Derek’s tongue filthily licks the smooth skin, tasting the small trickle of blood and salt on Stiles’ skin. At this point, he’s been denied contact with Stiles for so long that Derek is okay with any part of him inside his mouth. Stiles moans as Derek licks and sucks, wet, open-mouthed swipes of his tongue against the thin skin. He can feel Stiles’ pulse racing beneath his tongue, every thump of his own heavy heart beat pulsing in his cock, in his ass around the beads. Stiles’ eyes have fallen shut, his head fallen back to expose the long line of his neck. 

Derek wants to sink his teeth into the flesh.

Instead, he bites down on Stiles’ wrist, hard enough to break the skin, just a tiny pinprick of a wound. Stiles moans as Derek licks the tiny bead of blood, and when he pulls his arm away, and Derek fucking _whimpers_.

“Such a bad boy,” Stiles admonishes as he reaches behind him to slap Derek’s hip. 

Stiles crawls off of Derek’s torso, and he feels cold at the sudden loss of Stiles’ body heat. Derek hungrily takes in Stiles’ hard cock, red and sticking straight out, leaking at the tip. Derek stares at it, licking his lips in anticipation. “Bad boys don’t get rewards,” Stiles says as he reaches out to touch Derek’s chest. “Already healed.” Stiles shakes his head in disappointment. “I think you need something more permanent.” He grabs a marker off the nightstand and kneels back between Derek’s thighs. Derek’s cock twitches at being so close to Stiles, but Stiles very deliberately does not touch it; instead, he reaches around it as he writes low on Derek’s belly.

Derek reads it upside down as Stiles writes the words _Property of Stiles Stilinski_ across Derek’s stomach. He even adds a little smiley face at the end, which causes Derek to snort. “Now you won’t forget,” Stiles says, replacing the cap on the marker and tossing it behind him. He leans down and licks across the words, his chest hovering just out of reach of Derek’s cock. His cock throbs at the close proximity, his balls tightening at the almost-tickling sensation of Stiles’ tongue dragging across his lower belly. Derek watches in surprised awe as Stiles traces the letters with his tongue, writing the words onto his skin with saliva. Stiles’ eyelashes are so dark from this angle, so delicate as the pink tongue drags against Derek’s lower belly. He’s beautiful.

Derek flexes his hands helplessly, hating that he can’t touch Stiles, but completely turned on by not knowing what Stiles has in store for him, by the anticipation of what Stiles will do next and the fact that he is at Stiles’ mercy. As much as he wants to press Stiles into the bed and cover him in every way possible, Derek loves being Stiles’ plaything, loves having Stiles unselfconsciously do everything he wants to do to his body, Derek completely open and waiting for the express purpose of Stiles’ pleasure.

Stiles reaches between Derek’s legs and tugs playfully on the string of beads still buried inside Derek. “You don’t really deserve anything else,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “Are you going to be a good boy if I take them out and give you something better?”

“Yes,” Derek says, eyes and teeth finally back to normal. Stiles tugs on the beads and slowly pulls, Derek trying to relax and not fight the pressure against his rim from the inside. He exhales loudly when the first bead pops out, and sighs as his hole closes and Stiles’ fingers are right there, rubbing his asshole soothingly. Then, Stiles pulls again, and Derek clenches against the feeling before the quick burn of the next two beads in quick succession. “Fuck,” he breathes, needing more even before Stiles has finished pulling out the rest of them. When Stiles is finished, Derek feels empty, desperate to be filled.

Stiles circles the tip of his finger around Derek’s asshole, then slides his finger along the overly sensitive skin of his perineum. Derek lets his eyes fall shut as he concentrates on the point of contact, Stiles’ finger lightly stroking the sensitive skin, enough to have Derek wriggling against the bonds. Stiles alternates between putting pressure against it and skimming his fingers across it so lightly that Derek lifts his hips to gain more contact. Stiles moves to cup his balls gently, and Derek moans as Stiles rolls the heavy, tight sac in his hand. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Derek breathes. Stiles is so close to his cock, so close that Derek can feel the heat of his skin. But he doesn’t touch, just rolls his testicles around in his palm, dragging his thumb along the crease down the middle. Too quickly, Stiles’ hand is gone.

Derek watches in eager anticipation as Stiles picks up another toy, a slender blue dildo. “I’m going to fuck you with this dildo,” Stiles says. “And you’re just gonna wish it was my cock shoved up your ass, filling you up.” Derek moans and Stiles smirks. He makes a show of lubing the toy up, touching it in all the ways he knows Derek likes to be touched, and Derek can only stare, his cock aching for Stiles to touch it, even if briefly. 

Stiles presses the tip of the toy against Derek’s hole, pushing against the rim teasingly. Derek moves against the cuffs, his body aching from want and need. He’s not sure how much more he can take, how much longer he can take Stiles teasing him, barely touching him, before it becomes too much. 

“Tell me how much you want it, Derek.” Stiles circles the slick tip against him, and Derek is clenching and unclenching in anticipation and raw need. 

“I want it.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t think you do.”

“I want you to shove that dildo in my ass, Stiles, I want to be filled,” Derek says, feeling his cheeks burn. Using his words are the worst; he hates it when Stiles makes him say what he wants, pushes him out of his comfort zone of silent facial expressions. It makes his whole body flush, and he feels tingly all over, just from saying a few words. 

Stiles pushes the toy against the ring of muscle, into Derek fast and hard, and Derek throws his head back, crying out at the pleasure and the burning stretch, his fingers flexing and unflexing in hopes of touching something, anything. 

Stiles rubs Derek’s lower stomach gently as he slides the toy in and out, opening Derek up as he fucks him. It feels good, _fucking great_ , as the hard plastic moves against his hole, moves inside him. 

“Do you like that, Derek? Are you a little slut for it? Would rather be fucked by it instead of me?”

“No,” Derek answers between clenched teeth. It’s not enough, just a hint, a _fucking tease_ of Stiles – his fingers, his tongue, his cock, his _anything_.

“Say it, Derek,” Stiles says, suddenly by his ear, the shock of the proximity sending a jolt of electricity through his body. “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me what you want.”

“I want your cock,” Derek says, opening his eyes as Stiles looks at him from so close, brown eyes intense, pupils blown wide with lust. “I want your cock inside me. I’m a slut for your cock.”

Stiles pushes the toy up into Derek, leaving it there as he slings his leg over again and straddles his chest. Stiles’ cock is mere inches from his face, the scent of precome and arousal so thick Derek almost chokes on it. He resists the urge to lunge forward and wrap his lips around the crown, to taste Stiles on his tongue, suck him down until he can’t _breathe_. Stiles grins, knows just how tense Derek is, just how _difficult_ it is to remain still until Stiles orders him to move. “My big cock slut.” Stiles drags his fingers around Derek’s lips. “I can tell you want my cock in your mouth,” Stiles says, taking his cock in his hand and trailing the tip across Derek’s lower lip, smearing it with precome. “You want me to fuck your face, stick my cock so far down your throat you can’t taste anything but me.” 

Derek darts his tongue out, moaning at the taste on his tongue as Stiles drags the wet tip of his cock down the side of Derek’s exposed neck. Derek shivers, feeling wrecked. His eyes flash blue again, and Stiles rubs his cock up and down the side of his neck. “Mine,” he says, challenging Derek until Derek relaxes and closes his eyes, inhaling Stiles’ scent from this close. “I love seeing you like this,” Stiles says, voice low and gravelly in a way that goes straight through him, makes his stomach clench. “Spread out and obedient, just for me.” Stiles takes the sides of Derek’s head in his hands, thrusts his hips forward so that he’s rubbing his cock over Derek’s face, his balls bumping against his chin. The tip of his cock drags against Derek’s forehead, and Derek opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out so that Stiles’ cock slides along it. Just the taste of Stiles and the sensation of his cock sliding along his tongue and face sends shivers of pleasure throughout Derek’s body. Stiles’ eyes fall shut, and he moans quietly as he fucks against Derek’s face.

“Love that I’m the only one that gets to see you like this,” Stiles whispers, eyes open and slightly unfocused. “Mouth open and willing. All mine.”

Stiles grabs Derek’s hair, and pulls on it roughly, yanking his head back. Stiles doesn’t loosen his grip as he looks down at him, his cock still sliding along Derek’s cheek as he fists Derek’s hair so tightly that his scalp starts to feel sore. “Open your mouth,” Stiles commands, and Derek quickly obeys. “Such a good little slut.” With his free hand, Stiles traces the outline of Derek’s mouth, then slips a finger inside. Derek eagerly closes his mouth and sucks on the slender finger. “You’re going to suck my balls, and then you’re going to eat my ass.” He leans down, his face mere inches from Derek’s, his breath hot and damp. Derek sucks on the finger harder, wanting to reach up and kiss Stiles so badly he can barely stand it. “If you do a good job, maybe I’ll let you fuck me.”

Straightening up, Stiles moves forward on his knees, holding Derek’s head still as he lifts up just long enough to position himself over Derek’s mouth. Then, he lowers his balls onto Derek’s waiting tongue.

Derek licks the soft, wrinkled sac slowly, enjoying every swipe of his tongue against Stiles. Stiles’ scent is so concentrated here, a thick musk that reeks so heavily of arousal and _sex_ that the wolf is clawing at Derek’s insides to get to him. Stiles’ grip on Derek’s hair loosens, his fingers now rubbing his scalp softly as Derek tugs one ball inside his mouth. Stiles starts moaning as Derek sucks on his testicle, his tongue circling and running against the skin as his lips surround it and he sucks lightly. Derek tastes sweat, the salty tang of Stiles’ skin, and he feels the soft curls dragging across his tongue with every lap. Derek opens his mouth wider, and Stiles sinks down lower on his face as Derek sucks the other ball into his mouth. It’s almost too much, and he almost gags as his mouth stretches as wide as he can go. But he finally fits them both in his mouth comfortably, feeling one of Stiles’ balls resting on either side of his tongue as he sucks. Stiles flexes his fingers in Derek’s hair, scratching blunt nails across his scalp, which causes Derek to shudder. Stiles starts rutting above him, and Derek thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world, Stiles losing himself while sitting on his face.

Stiles raises up, and the balls fall from Derek’s mouth as Stiles drags his sac against Derek’s face before dipping them against Derek’s mouth. Derek licks and wraps his lips around them briefly before Stiles moves them back out of reach, over and over until Stiles settles himself back against Derek’s face. Derek gives Stiles’ sac a long, final swipe before dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin behind them and then teasing the crack of Stiles’ ass with his tongue. The dark hair dusting along Stiles’ crack is soft against his tongue, and he teases the crevice, dipping his tongue as deep between the cheeks as he can. The hand is suddenly gone from Derek’s hair and Stiles is angling himself forward, his fingers spreading his cheeks apart. Derek groans at the strong sense of Stiles that hits him, just stares at the way Stiles’ spreads himself for him, his asshole on display, Derek’s tongue waiting for Stiles to lower himself onto it.

He hums contently as he starts licking Stiles’ asshole, dark curls tickling his face; he loves this part, loves the taste of Stiles so strong and intense on his tongue, the heady scent of Stiles surrounding him and seeping directly into his skin. “Oh fuck, yes Derek,” Stiles moans above him, reaching one hand out to brace himself on the headboard as he rocks against Derek’s face. “You love this, don’t you? Love licking my ass.” Stiles keens as Derek flicks the ridges of the rim, circles the outside before dipping the tip of his tongue inside his opening. “Fuck, yes. Fuck me with your tongue. God, Derek, I love your fucking tongue in my ass. Want to ride your face all night long.” Derek groans, Stiles’ words shooting straight to his cock as he moves against the restraints in an attempt to grab Stiles, press him down so hard against his face that he can’t do anything but see and breathe and taste Stiles’ ass. 

Stiles rocks against his face, making all sorts of filthy sounds above Derek as he stabs his tongue inside Stiles’ asshole. Stiles is clenching around his tongue, a steady pulse of movement as Derek dips his tongue inside and then pulls it out to drag the flat of his tongue over the fluttering rim. Derek feels every moan, every shudder Stiles makes around his tongue. Stiles is loose and relenting above him, his hole relaxing enough for Derek to slide his tongue inside his heat and taste him. Derek’s hips arch off the bed, humping the air shamelessly as he buries his tongue inside Stiles’ ass, so open and filthy and _raw_ that it has both of them moaning in the quiet room.

They stay like that a few minutes, Stiles suspended in air as Derek licks him wet and loose. When Stiles moves away, Derek whimpers. Stiles drags his thumb across Derek’s bottom lip. “Are you sad I pulled away?” Derek nods, tilting his head down to suck Stiles’ thumb into his mouth. “You are? You want me to sit on your face all night while you fuck me open with your tongue until I’m loose and trembling above you?”

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek moans, letting his thumb fall from his lips. He’s so close right now, shaking with the ache that’s settling into his limbs from being held like this for so long, trembling from the need to touch Stiles, the need for Stiles to touch him. His cock is so hard it’s painful; he feels like it could explode at any moment.

Stiles leans forward and licks behind Derek’s ear, and then drags his tongue down his neck, and across his nipples. Derek jerks forward, the restraints keeping him from moving too much, and the dull pain in his arms just adds to his pleasure. Stiles drops a kiss to Derek’s armpit, then drags his tongue along the side of Derek’s body, along the lines of his hips. Stiles flicks the tip of Derek’s cock with his tongue, and Derek moans loudly, so close to coming that he has to hold himself back as he arches up off the bed. Stiles continues licking Derek, against his inner thighs and behind his knees. Derek can smell the scent of Stiles’ saliva mixing with the sweat on his skin, and it’s intoxicating – just like everything else about Stiles.

Derek groans as Stiles pulls out the dildo, his hole sensitive and slightly sore. Stiles massages the loose opening with his thumb, hooking it inside before pulling it back out to circle the rim again. Derek is breathing heavily, small noises escaping his mouth as Stiles touches him. 

Stiles leans over and grabs something out of the box, a red anal plug. Derek moves his hips in anticipation, and Stiles drags the plastic against his shaft. Derek’s eyes flutter shut. After spreading ample lubricant on the anal plug and then smearing it against Derek’s opening, Stiles slowly pushes the plug inside.

Derek strains against the cuffs, wanting to move and _touch_ as the plug slowly fills and stretches him. He feels the slow burn, stretching him wider and wider as the base broadens, and it’s almost painful and too much. When it finally sinks all the way in, he groans at the sensation of the pressure inside.

“I’m going to ride you so hard,” Stiles says, flipping the top of the lube open and squirting a generous amount onto his palm. “I’m going to ride you with that plug shoved in your ass, and I want you to fill me up with your come so you can eat it out of my ass and lick me clean.”

“Stiles,” Derek whines, beyond caring, nearly out of his mind with want and desire. 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” Stiles says, fist loosely slicking Derek’s cock with lube. Even the light touch of Stiles’ hand against his cock makes him cry out loudly. He grabs the base of Derek’s cock as he positions himself over it, hovering just out of reach.

“I want to fuck you. I want my cock so deep inside you as you ride me and I want you leaking with my come,” Derek says, his heart pounding in his chest as Stiles sinks lower, even the heat of his body driving Derek crazy. “Please, Stiles. Please fuck me.”

Stiles slides down over Derek’s cock, swift and smooth, enveloping Derek’s length in his tight, hot hole. Derek arches his hips up to meet him, shoving his cock as far up into Stiles’ ass as he can. He contracts around the anal plug, the hard pressure combined with his cock buried inside Stiles and his loss of freedom making the whole act the most intense thing Derek has ever experienced. Derek’s mind unravels, his entire body on fire as he tenses against the restraints, needing to feel every part of Stiles under his fingertips, bury his face in his skin, taste and smell and touch him every way possible. 

His mind is screaming, a slight anxiety edging around the immense thrill of letting go, relinquishing control, being vulnerable and open and _so fucking helpless_ at the hands of Stiles. The wolf is clawing at him, needing to take Stiles for his own, and he’s never loved Stiles as much as he does in that moment. Derek opens his eyes and sees Stiles riding him, his hands braced against Derek’s chest as he rides him hard and fast, Derek moving as much as he can to meet each movement of Stiles’ hips. Stiles lifts his head and notices Derek looking at him, and he drops a hand to Derek’s lower belly, scratching his fingernails across the words inked into his skin. “So fucking hot,” Stiles says breathily, “Mine.” He slides his hands up his torso, drags his fingers over the newly healed skin where he’d carved his initials.

“I…can’t…” Derek gets out between the sounds he’s making; he’s not even sure what’s coming out of his mouth anymore, just sounds pushed up from somewhere deep inside of him by Stiles’ hot body around him. Stiles adjusts himself, taking Derek even deeper, and Derek spasms, his balls tight and painful as he tries so hard to hold on. “So close,” he says, staring up at Stiles.

“Let go, Derek,” Stiles murmurs, “Come for me.”

Stiles’ permission is all he needs. Derek slams his hips up into him as far as he can as Stiles drives himself down, and Derek screams as he squeezes his eyes shut, straining against the bonds as he comes. Derek comes so hard the world around him disappears for a few moments, and everything centers only on where his cock is connected to Stiles, the waves of pleasure crashing over him again and again as Stiles’ hot body surrounds him.

He lies there afterwards, breathing heavily and unable to move as aftershocks pulse through him, barely aware of his surroundings. He’s exhausted and spent, fucked within an inch of his life. He opens his eyes again when he notices Stiles rocking against him slowly. Derek’s soft cock feels overly sensitive trapped inside Stiles, and he hisses when Stiles slides off and crawls forward. Stiles has his cock in his hand, and Derek glances between Stiles’ legs, catches sight of a bit of come sliding down the inside of Stiles’ left thigh. He gets a whiff of his come mixing with Stiles’ scent, and his wolf hums contently in his chest.

Stiles starts jerking himself, faster and looser than Derek likes on himself, but just the way he knows Stiles likes to get himself off. Stiles crawls forward a bit on his knees, his eyes starting to droop as he gets close. Then Stiles jerks his hips forward, moaning softly as he comes. Derek opens his mouth as a spot of come lands on his cheek, his jaw, his nose, and then on his lip. He quickly turns his head as Stiles milks himself through the rest of his orgasm, the last bits of come falling on Derek’s exposed neck. The feel of the warm, sticky liquid on the vulnerable flesh sends a shiver down his spine, his eyes flashing blue as his tongue darts out to lick the come from his lips.

Stiles collapses on him, kissing him for the first time all night. Derek kisses him back aggressively, more teeth than usual, Stiles’ mouth hot and perfect as the taste of Stiles’ come mingles in their mouths. Stiles pulls away too quickly, moving to Derek’s neck to lick the come from his skin before undoing the cuffs. Derek lets his first arm drop to the bed, sore and exhausted, then the other as Stiles moves to the foot of the bed to untie his ankles. Derek stares at him, the red flush covering his back, the round globes of his cheeks, the line of come sliding down his leg.

As soon as Derek is free, he grabs Stiles around the waist, flipping him on his back as he touches him all over, kissing Stiles’ mouth with unrepressed fervor. Stiles’ skin feels fucking fantastic under his sense-deprived hands, his fingers tingling as he touches Stiles everywhere. Every touch of Stiles’ hands against his skin sends goose bumps across his flesh.

“Turn around,” Stiles says, pushing along Derek’s hips. Derek moves on the bed, bracketing his legs around Stiles’ head as he places his face in Stiles’ crotch. Stiles’ legs immediately go around Derek, ankles hooking over Derek’s back. 

Derek reaches down, spreads Stiles’ cheeks, and sees his come leaking out of his ass. He thinks Stiles looks the sexiest like this, completely fucked out, loose and filled with his come, reeking of him, completely _his_. Something inside Derek reels at seeing Stiles spread out like this, messy and intimate and just for him. 

Derek slides two fingers easily inside Stiles’ loose asshole, reveling in the slick, frictionless glide of his fingers deep inside Stiles’ used opening. He twists the fingers around, Stiles moaning behind him as he feels around inside him. He pulls the fingers out and licks the come from them, moaning at the taste of himself mixed with Stiles, before he leans down and starts licking the come from Stiles’ ass, then the bit that has seeped onto his perineum. The scent is intoxicating combined with the feel of Stiles’ warm, solid body beneath him and the taste of Derek’s come mixed with the taste of Stiles’ body. Derek is so far gone that he doesn’t realize what Stiles is doing until he tugs on the anal plug to remove it. Derek groans, his ass sore and used, but Stiles is gentle, kissing and rubbing his cheeks and rim as he slowly works the plug out of Derek’s ass. He sighs when it’s gone, and Stiles kisses his hole before licking it soothingly.

Derek hums contently as he turns back to Stiles, delving his tongue inside Stiles’ loose opening to lick the come from it. Stiles moans, his hips wiggling a bit as Derek sucks and licks the come from him.

When Stiles is licked clean and Derek is content, he lifts up and Stiles drops his legs to the bed. Derek crawls up to the pillow, Stiles snuggling into his arms. Stiles kisses him deeply, slowly, and Derek sighs into his mouth. He can taste their mingled come on their tongues, and he is content.

“Was that okay?” Stiles asks when he pulls away.

Derek looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Did you seriously just ask that question?”

Stiles blushes. “You know I feel so stupid when I have to try and talk sexy and be in control. You’re so much better at that part than me.”

Derek cups Stiles’ face and smiles. “You have _nothing_ to be worried about. You are so fucking hot and perfect. That was…fucking fantastic.” Stiles beams, and Derek feels quite happy in that moment. “When did you prepare yourself? I was not expecting that.”

Stiles blushes and looks down, bashful. “I, uh, wore the anal plug earlier, before I washed all the toys and got everything ready for tonight.”

“God, why didn’t you tell me that?” Derek nuzzles into Stiles’ neck, nipping at the skin playfully. “You just don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Stiles grabs Derek’s wrist, rubs his thumb over the fading bruises. “Does it hurt?”

Derek shakes his head. “No, I would have let you know if it did.” Stiles lifts the wrist to his mouth and drops a kiss to the abused skin. Derek smiles sleepily. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He runs a hand through Derek’s sweaty hair before cuddling against him and closing his eyes. “Next time, I should spank you. And fuck you. And maybe melt some candle wax on you. And make you wear stockings.” 

“Never content,” Derek teases, his mouth against Stiles’ temple.

“Always planning ahead.”

Derek laughs quietly. “I can’t wait.”

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> \----> [tumblr](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com), if you want to come say hi. :D


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